Triple Daddies

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Triple Daddies Page 41

by Madison Faye


  “I think I’d like that,” I said breathlessly, still feeling like this was some sort of dream as the two of them kissed me one at a time before pulling away.

  “Sleep tight, angel,” Van murmured.

  “Thanks for the best night we’ve ever had,” Matthew said, kissing my cheek.

  And then they were gone.

  What. The. Hell.

  I walked around the huge penthouse suite after they were gone, my head still spinning from all of this and my body still tingling like it’d never tingled before.

  This was a dream, it had to be. Not only had I agreed to go home with a stranger — something I’d never remotely done before — but I’d gone home with two strangers. More than that, they’d turned out to be amazing men, and that was before you factored in having given me the absolute best sex of my life.

  I took a bubble bath before crawling into the huge bed and snuggling into the sheets.

  The pillows smelled like them.

  It was that thought that brought a silly grin to my face as I fell into a deep sleep.

  5

  Julia

  I timed my arrival back home at my apartment perfectly — after Emma went to her job as a staff reporter at the Revania Post, and with enough time to get ready for my big first day.

  After showering, and still glowing, I blushed, glancing up and catching my own reflection in the vanity mirror. Visions of the previous night danced through my head, sending a shiver down my back and a pulsing heat through my core.

  “Okay, details.”

  I yelped, half-jumping out of my skin as I whirled to see Emma leaning against my doorframe, grinning at me.

  “I thought you were at work!”

  “Working from home today.” She shrugged. “Job perks to make up for the garbage pay of being a reporter.”

  I flushed, swallowing the heat and the thoughts of the previous night from my face. Well, trying to.

  “So?”

  “So?” I shrugged as casually as I could, turning back to the mirror and combing out my hair.

  Emma laughed. “Don’t pull that ‘who, me?’ crap, lady. You went home last night with two totally gorgeous men, and if you think I’m not going to press you for details, you’re actually insane.”

  I laughed, biting my lip and blushing wildly.

  “It was...” I took a shaky breath.

  Amazing? Mind-blowing? The hottest night of my life?

  “It was, uh, good?”

  Emma rolled her eyes dramatically. “Good? Seriously? That’s the best you can do? Um, yeah, that sounds like a very good to me.”

  My face went bright red.

  “No, it was—”

  “Julia.”

  “Okay! I—” I bit my lip, my eyes blazing in the mirror. “I had some fun.”

  “Some fun.”

  “Fine, lots of fun,” I said quietly.

  “Those aren’t details!” Emma groaned. “C’mon, some of us went home last night with Netflix and half a bottle of rosé I might have found in the back of our fridge. “Let me live through you and your wild night with the two hotties!”

  I laughed, turning and putting my hands on my friend’s shoulders. Emma knew I wasn’t a kiss-and-tell type person, but I also knew I couldn’t just ignore what she knew had happened the night before.

  “Let’s just say it was the single hottest night of my life and leave it at that?”

  “What if you just tell me all the details about that hottest night of your life and we leave it at that?”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “Prude,” she laughed.

  “Nosey.”

  “Guilty.”

  We laughed as I finished getting dressed. Both of us headed to the kitchen as I poured a cup of coffee.

  “Hey, Emma?”

  For some reason, the question on my lips had been lingering since the night before. And somehow, through the incredible night I’d had, it was a detail I kept coming back to.

  “Do you know anything about tattoos?”

  “Not really?”

  I rolled my eyes at myself as I poured the coffee. “Yeah never mind.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I—” I frowned, and I wondered again why I was bothering to ask her this. Though, she was an investigative journalist, so maybe I thought she might have some insight.

  “What does a tattoo of three crowns mean?”

  She was silent for second, and when she answered from behind me, her voice was edged.

  “What do you mean?”

  I shrugged, sipping my coffee as I turned to her. “It’s probably nothing. A tattoo of three crowns over a little crest.”

  She gasped.

  “Whoa, Jules!”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” she said quietly. “It’s— it’s nothing, just this urban legend.”

  A chill crept up my spine, worry playing out across my face.

  “Uh, what kind of an urban legend?”

  Visions of serial killers and organ harvesters danced through my head.

  “It’s called the Triple Crown Club.” She cleared her throat. “But seriously, it’s made up. I mean it has to be. Someone would have found something out about it if it was real. It’s totally a made up thing.”

  “Well what is this made up thing, exactly?”

  She sighed.

  “It’s secret underground club. A sex club.”

  A raw heat teased through me, my memory flashing first of the two identical tattoos on Matthew and Van, and then of the insane night that followed.

  “Really,” I said quietly, trying to keep the squeak out of my voice.

  “Yeah, it’s allegedly this club exclusively for royal elite guys. You know, princes and that sort of thing. And the whole point of this club is…”

  She trailed off, and I realized I’d been holding my breath as I quickly exhaled and shook my head.

  “And the whole point is?” I whispered

  “The whole point is, women get picked to go there and get…” she giggled nervously.

  “Emma!”

  “Okay! They go there and get shared by these guys.”

  My eyes went wide.

  “What.”

  “Yeah, like, you know.”

  “Like a threesome?” I whispered, the blood roaring in my veins.

  “Hey, you’re the expert now.”

  I blushed furiously, groaning into my cup of coffee as she stuck her tongue out at me, teasing me.

  Like the mind-blowing one I had last night?

  “Or a more-some, yeah.”

  My pulse thundered in my veins as I thought again of the identical tattoos on my mystery men.

  The masks.

  The sharing.

  A tingling heat began to pulse between my legs, slowly teasing out to every bit of my body.

  “Wait, where exactly did you see this tattoo?” Emma suddenly gasped. “Oh my God, did those guys from last night have triple crown tattoos?!”

  “What? No!” I said quickly, almost choking on my coffee. “No, of course not! I just— I heard someone talking about it.”

  “It’s the mark of member,” She said quietly. “You know, allegedly.” She snorted. “Did you happen to go home with a couple of princes last night?”

  “Yeah, right,” I laughed nervously, trying to brush it off.

  Or did I?

  “No, they probably just got the tattoos for some kind of sports team thin—”

  “Wait, wait, wait, they did have the tattoos?!”

  I should have lied.

  I froze instead.

  Emma picked up on it.

  “Juliana Carlson!” She gasped loudly. “Now you have to give me details!”

  “Uh, I have to go!” I sputtered out, my face burning bright red. “Gonna be late!”

  “Dude, this could be a HUGE story for me if it’s real!”

  “Emma! It’s nothing, seriously. I probably didn’t see the tattoos right. I’m sure it’s
for something else.”

  She gave me a look before she sighed, giving up, even if it was just for then.

  “I supposed you might have been distracted. You know, what with the two dicks to think about.”

  I blushed furiously as I whirled to grab my keys and bag.

  “Hey, Jules.”

  I turned, my face still beet red.

  “I’m just teasing you, you know.”

  I grinned. “I know.”

  “Hey, good luck today with your hot new boss.” She giggled. “See if he’s got a crown tattoo!”

  I bolted from the apartment before Emma had my face permanently a shade of red.

  My pulse raced, my body trembled. My breath came stuttered.

  What had I done last night?

  …And with who?

  I was still buzzing — my mind still racing and my body still tingling as I grabbed a cab to the office address the hiring manager had given me. The whole way, I was of course replaying the night before. The whole way there, when I should have been mentally preparing for my first day at a tough new job working for a damn prince, I was instead thinking of the unbelievably hot night of toe-curling sex I’d had with two gorgeous, incredible men.

  …The added flavoring of secret royal sex clubs and members-only tattoos only made my blood pump a little faster, even if I told myself that was all silliness.

  After all, Anya had said it was just an urban legend.

  The cab stopped, and I blinked my way out of the daydreams and looked up. We were stopped at a massive gate, with a guard post next to us and multiple men in the color and uniform of the North Revania royal guard.

  I froze, suddenly jerking my gaze up past the gate to the office building I’d been expecting.

  My jaw dropped.

  Remember that thing about princes not being in castles?

  I’d been wrong.

  “His Highness will see you now.”

  The stern looking, scowling older man in the crisp uniform barked the words across the waiting room to me. I stood quickly, shivering in anticipation.

  I was about to meet the royal Prince of North Revania, face-to-face.

  My new boss.

  Powerful. Rich. Gorgeous.

  Single.

  I mentally rolled my eyes at myself for the thought. This was my new boss, not some “royal” episode of The Bachelor. And even if Prince Snow was notoriously secretive and pretty much invisible to the tabloids, I was sure it was just because he was good at hiding his personal life, not because he didn’t have one.

  He was, after all, a young, hot, wealthy prince. I’m sure I couldn’t even begin to imagine the sordid details of the private life he kept hidden.

  I followed the stern man in uniform down a hallway to a set to double doors — solid wood with the crest of North Revania carved into them and inlaid with gold. Armed guard in formal dress stood on either side of it. The stern man moved to sit behind a desk beside the door, and spoke quietly into an intercom.

  “Send her in.”

  The voice was deep, rich, and powerful sounding, and it sent a shiver up my back.

  Deep breaths. You can do this.

  The stern man nodded at the guards before turning to me. “A word of advice. Do not keep His Highness waiting. On anything.”

  The guards opened the doors, I took a deep breath, and I stepped into the room. The doors clicked shut behind me.

  “Ms. Carlson, I presume.”

  I took one last deep breath, forcing the nervousness from my system before I raised my head.

  Good lord.

  It was his eyes that shot lighting through my body — his dark, storm-blue eyes that rooted me to the spot and sent something throbbing deep into my body. My breath caught, and for a moment, as I locked eyes with the Prince himself, I was lost.

  He smiled — a darkly wicked, smug, and downright panty-melting grin — as he stood from his huge desk. He walked around it, and as he moved towards me, I felt my pulse beating faster and faster. I knew I was standing frozen to the spot not saying a freaking word like a total wierdo, but I also knew there was no way I could help that.

  Not there, in that office, with that man.

  He was hot in pictures, or on the news. In person, he was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Thick dark hair, those piercing dark-blue eyes, and a body that screamed power and dominance, even clothed in an Armani suit. He oozed sexual energy, and I realized I was practically panting, my thighs squeezing together under my pencil skirt as he moved closer.

  “Is everything alright, Ms. Carlson?”

  His voice teased over me like a lover’s touch, pulsing through me and melting over my skin.

  Somehow — somehow — I managed to find myself. I quickly snapped my mouth shut and clenched my hands tight at my sides, forcing the smile to my face and trying to bury the illicit feelings deep inside.

  “Your Highness.” I bowed quickly, my pulse still racing as I tried to swallow the heat from my face. “A pleasure to meet you, and it will be an honor to serve you.”

  To serve you.

  The blush crept back into my face as I imagined all sorts of ways I’d be happy to “serve” him.

  God, what is wrong with me?

  I’d had one night of the best sex of my life — with two men — and the next day I was soaking through my panties as I fantasized about my new boss.

  Apparently, I’d taken “getting wild” to another level entirely.

  “Mr. Snow will do, Ms. Carlson.” His eyes smirked, his whole body exuding power. “Your Highness seems a bit…antiquated, wouldn’t you say?”

  “As you wish, Your High—” I caught myself, wincing as I shook my head. “Absolutely, Mr. Snow.”

  He smiled cooly, and I swear his eyes lingered as they slowly moved over my body — up my legs, over my pencil skirt, and teasingly up my blouse to hold my eyes with his gaze and let it simmer. I trembled under that gaze, my entire body feeling flushed before he slowly pulled his eyes away from me and turned.

  “You’ll be hitting the ground running today. It’s a busy one, so copy my schedule to yours from Leon outside and memorize it quickly. Meetings, more meetings, a board room round-table, and then I’m having lunch with some friends from out of town.”

  He glanced up at me, a smirk on his face. “You’ll like them.”

  He moved behind his desk and shrugged his jacket off. I swallowed as I watched him fold it precisely and drape it over the back of his big chair before he rolled the sleeves up on his dress shirt.

  Those forearms…

  I quickly looked away, desperate to get ahold of myself and my apparently raging hormones.

  “Ms. Carlson.”

  I quickly glanced back to see him eying me curiously. “My schedule?”

  I blushed, nodding quickly. “Absolutely, Your Highness.”

  I froze, cringing again at my faux pas. But he only grinned, his brows arched as if amused as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “We’ll work on that. Now, let’s get to work, shall we?”

  The rest of the morning was a blur of meetings, schedule syncing, and dealing with grouchy Leon — the stern man who’d led me down the hall. I was mostly in the Prince’s office itself, doing everything in my power to concentrate on work and not him — the guy who had to be using some sort of magic pheromones as cologne, since I could not keep myself from staring at him, or thinking all sorts of highly inappropriate thoughts about us.

  One meeting blurred into the next as the day progressed, until it was quickly approaching lunch. I was in a side office off of the Prince’s main office — a gorgeous room of all glass that’d be set aside as my own office while managing his affairs — when my intercom buzzed.

  “Ms. Carlson.”

  His crisp, velvety voice purred through the speaker, and for the hundredth time that day, I wanted to slap myself for getting so damn flustered over my boss.

  Get your head together.

  I didn’t know who was more to blame:
him for being so insanely gorgeous and sinfully attractive, or me, for still being on this sex-fueled high from my downright x-rated experience the night before.

  Whichever the case, if this kept up, I was going to have to bring changes of underwear to work.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Yes, Mr. Snow?”

  “Would you come in here?”

  There was something so captivatingly demanding in something phrased as a question that my whole body tingled as I quickly rose from my desk. I opened the door from my office to his and stepped in to see him speaking with two other men in rich, expensive suits with their backs to me.

  Prince Snow looked up and smiled that searingly hot, smug smile at me.

  “Ms. Carlson, would you please hold my calls while I’m out to lunch with my friends?”

  I smiled and half-bowed.

  “Absolutely, sir—”

  The words caught, choking in my throat.

  Because right then, his two friends turned towards me, and my whole world exploded.

  It all came rushing back — the kisses, the hands, the gasping moans, the growled demands for more. The way they’d made my body feel things I’d never felt before, and how they’d made me come like I’d never imagined I could come.

  Because right there, in Prince Luke Snow’s office, I locked eyes with his two friends — friends who weren’t wearing masks this time, and who I now obviously recognized from the news.

  Friends who weren’t putting their lips and tongues and hands all over me. Friends who weren’t making my body crumble from both ends with their two thick, gorgeous cocks.

  …Friends who were otherwise known to me as Matthew and Van.

  My one-night, two-man stand was standing right in front of me, and the floor dropped out beneath me.

  Prince Snow kept talking, like I wasn’t in total free-fall, and like his two friends weren’t staring at me with a mixture of total shock and lingering hunger. He nodded at “Matthew.”

  “This is…”

  He introduced them, but I didn’t need it.

  I knew who they were then. There, in that office, I suddenly knew exactly who the two men were who’d rocked my body until I was begging for more the night before.

  “Matthew and Van,” aka, Prince Micah Anders of West Revania, and Prince Victor Swell, of South Revania.

 

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